A tale of two brothers
by AWanderingSoulSometimesLost
Summary: "If I had chosen to leave with Larra," His voice came out loud and clear, severe and ruthless, "Would you have considered us even?"


**This is a piece that had been plaguing my mind for some time and I finally got around to writing it. Depending on my inspiration, there could be more one-shots added about these two brothers. It's quite short, but I hope you'll like it.**

 **I own nothing and I'm sorry for any grammar or spelling mistake.**

She never turned around. Never cast even the briefest glance, never breathed in deeply to savour the last taste of the city. Never stiffened momentarily under his gaze, as if she wasn't even aware he was watching.

She knew he was, though. She had to know.

The sky was clear above her head, blue as the sapphire necklace he'd given her for her last nameday. She wasn't wearing it, of course; she wasn't wearing anything that had been made in Westeros. The rich crimson gown embroidered with the finest lace Myr could offer hugged her upper body flatteringly while the wide skirts concealed her body from waist below, only occasionally revealing the footwear of matching colour that she had brought with her from Lys all those years ago. A silver necklace made by the most skilful Pentoshi jewellers encircled her slender neck, a bright ruby resting on her collarbone. Her long hair flickered gold beneath the sunrays as it swung sleepily in the light breeze, dancing to a tune only gods could hear.

She was achingly beautiful. He could not behold her without hurting. Without wishing the circumstances were different.

She knew it – and she didn't look back. Larra was never the one for sentimentality.

The ship swallowed her before his eyes, as if it were a sea monster of legend whose mouth she had freely walked in. For a fleeting moment, he considered running after her, begging her on his knees to stay, promising things would change, _meaning it_.

" _Come with me."_ She would say – had said. _"We will raise our children in Lys. Your wit and understanding of economy and trade will be useful there. I imagine you might even take over the bank one day. You will be one of the richest men in the world."_

Promises of vast wealth, power and a future with her. The temptation was almost too great.

 _Almost._

" _I can't leave Aegon."_ He had argued. _"He needs me."_

Her amethyst eyes had darkened at his excuse. In a heartbeat, they had become cold and distant, ice rising where fire had once dwelled.

" _Yes,"_ She had breathed out, just the softest whisper he'd nearly missed, _"He does."_

To this moment, he couldn't tell whether she'd been speaking of his brother or their son.

Soon enough, the ship – joy and pride of some Lysene merchant of irrelevant name whose wood shimmered in the sunlight while its white sails spread like wings as the wind met them – set out of the harbour, rocking lightly on the waves. Moment by moment, it grew smaller in size as it sailed into the distance, until it was no more than a child's toy, until it was so far and unclear it might as well have been a fragment of Viserys' imagination.

 _You should have gone with her._ A bitter voice in his mind told him.

"You should have gone with her." His brother's sorrowful voice said.

Nothing could be seen on the horizon but the sea meeting the sky. Seemingly so close, yet so infinitely far apart – just like the sons of Daemon and Rhaenyra Targaryen.

"In all truth," Aegon continued quietly, as if afraid of disturbing the silence lingering around Viserys like frail armour on the brink of breaking, "I thought you _would_ leave."

 _Thought or hoped, brother?_ Viserys wondered vacantly, not turning to meet his brother's gaze. _It's not the same._

"As you can see, I am still here." He said evenly instead, his voice sounding tired and empty even to his own ears. "I will be here as long as you want me to be."

A heavy sigh left Aegon's lips in response.

"You would burden me with your unhappiness, brother?" He asked in the same hollow tone – they were brothers after all, marked by the same scars of loss. "You will not hate me for leaving you, but you will hate me for not letting you go?"

He sounded almost too eager to bear that fate, as if it would allow him to finally break under the weight of all the burdens he carried. It would be easier, wouldn't it, easier than lingering in a state not whole, but not completely broken either. It would be easier than going through life haunted by memories, by choices, by losses.

Viserys finally turned to gaze upon his older brother, dressed in black as always, without the crown on his head. Even in broad daylight, Aegons's pale face was covered in shadows, his lilac eyes darker than either Mother or Father's had been. Two wells of silence where his brother's demons resided, always watching, never leaving.

So much pain. So much guilt.

Would he break? Viserys had to know.

"If I had chosen to leave with Larra," His voice came out loud and clear, severe and ruthless, "Would you have considered us even?"

Even against his will, he waited for an answer with bated breath, each heartbeat lasting a year, a decade, a century. Aegon's expression never changed, the sadness permanently carved into his features.

"You would have left me for love." He said at last, sounding no more or less broken than he had before. "I left you because I was scared for my own life."

A question lingered in the air, never to be spoken out loud, weighing upon the brothers as it would for as long as they lived.

 _How can we ever be even?_


End file.
